


Appetite

by robokittens



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Implied/Referenced Cannibalism, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:21:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24899854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robokittens/pseuds/robokittens
Summary: It's not the worst thing a man could eat.
Relationships: Cornelius Hickey/Sgt Solomon Tozer
Comments: 16
Kudos: 25
Collections: Fingerbang #1





	Appetite

Solomon was still breathing hard when Hickey pulled off of him, a pleased little look on his face. Cat that got the cream, Sol would say, but — well. He watched as Hickey swallowed. It wasn't right, somehow, that a man could look that smug with another man's seed working down his throat, but. That was Hickey, then, really. Sol wished the side of the tent were sturdy enough to lean back onto, but there was no way it could take his weight. He tilted his head back instead, eyes half shut.

"It's not bad," Hickey said, like he was reading Solomon's mind. He probably was. "Not the worst thing a man could eat. You might like it."

Solomon snorted, hardly a laugh. Hickey frowned — Sol couldn't see him but he could still tell, Hickey's moods like weather coming in. You learn these things. So it was no surprise then, either, when Hickey stood up, pressed as close to Sol as he could manage without toppling them over and through the canvas. He pressed his mouth to Solomon's jaw — it was warm, warmer than anything else in this place, and without thinking Sol tilted his head down to meet it.

Hickey's mouth was sour, but nothing tasted good here. Nothing had tasted good in a long time. Sol found he didn't mind it, really. Hickey pulled back and rested his head on Solomon's shoulder; it was uncharacteristic soft of him, but … he knew what his men needed, sometimes. Knew it all the time; sometimes he gave it to them.

"...of a man that would taste good," Hickey said. Sol hadn't even realized he'd been speaking, his voice was so soft and low, soothing somehow. "What do you think, Solomon? Would you eat it with bare hands? Shoving it into your mouth like an animal? Or are you more than that — knives and forks, fancy china."

Solomon laughed. "A tin plate's fancy enough for me. What are we eating now? Got something special prepared, have you?"

Hickey smiled, that pleased cat smile again; Sol could feel it against his throat. He could feel it, too, when Hickey's hand came down and wrapped around his cock where it still hung out of his trousers, soft now, and likely to stay that way even with the gentle movement of Hickey's hand over it. Sol shivered: too much on him too soon even with how slow Hickey was moving, or maybe just the air. Hickey's hand curled around his cock then, just cupping it. Possessively almost.

"I've got a lot prepared," Hickey promised. Sol almost thought he felt teeth against his throat.


End file.
